


The Fountain of Youth Protocol

by Neuropsyche



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Baby Tony, M/M, No Plot/Plotless, Tech gone wrong, Well - Freeform, Woops, not really - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-23
Updated: 2019-09-26
Packaged: 2020-10-26 16:43:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,479
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20745428
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Neuropsyche/pseuds/Neuropsyche
Summary: Tony tries to surprise Peter. And he does.





	1. 1

**Author's Note:**

> Just something I wrote on the discord to try out and see what happened. Hope you like it. No under age - not even a lot of smut, really

Peter Parker sighed, and sat down heavily on the edge of the bed.

“If one more person calls me a _twink_, I swear I’m going to have a shit-fit…”

Tony walked over, pressing the younger man’s knees apart so that he could stand between them, his hands going to Peter’s hair, fingers carding through them, lovingly.

“You can’t _blame_ them, really,” he pointed out, reasonably, smiling down at his young lover. “You pretty much embody the word, if you think about it.”

“Tony…” The boy’s tone told Stark that he wasn’t amused, but Tony was long beyond hiding his feelings from Peter. “I swear… a _shit-fit_. An honest to God tantrum, with tears, kicking my feet on the floor and screaming. The _works_.”

“You just need something else to think about,” Tony told him, reaching for the buckle on his belt with one hand, but keeping hold of Peter’s head with the other, making sure he didn’t move away. “I have just the thing…”

Peter chuckled, and licked his lips, his mood much improved, suddenly.

“Yeah? Let’s see what you have…”

><><><><> 

Much later, both of them were sprawled in the bed, a tangle of naked limbs and satiated expressions.

“Better?” Tony asked, running his hand along Peter’s well-used ass, and smiling at the way Peter shivered at the touch.

“For the moment.”

He was already beginning to feel annoyed, again, and Tony wasn’t going to be able to rise to the occasion and distract him, again, for a while.

“What bothers you the most?” Tony asked, seriously, turning and kissing him, lightly. “That you’re so young? Or that I’m so much older than you?”

“Nothing _bothers_ me, baby,” Peter said. “Not about you and me, anyway. You’re older than me, yes, but you’re virile, and hot, and sexy as hell. I love you. I love your body. Even the little gray hairs I see when I have you in my mouth. It’s _hot_.”

“But if you were older…?”

“Then I’d be less appealing to you. You like me young and flexible.”

The older man smiled, once more running his hand along Peter’s firm body.

“Yes, I do,” he purred.

><><><><>>><<> 

“What are you working on?”

“It’s a surprise.”

Peter scowled, looking over Tony’s shoulder at the display, leaning his chin on his shoulder and wrapping his arms around Tony’s chest.

“You keep saying that.”

“It keeps being a surprise.”

“C’mon, you can tell me. I thought we don’t have any secrets…”

“Not _secrets_,” Tony corrected. “_Surprises_. We’re allowed surprises.”

“FRIDAY? What’s he working on?”

_“It’s a surprise.”_

Peter rolled his eyes, hearing the amused chuckle coming from deep in Tony’s chest.

“Funny.”

“Yeah, she is, sometimes, isn’t she?”

“How much longer are you going to be working?”

“We’re close.”

“When do I get my surprise?”

“Tomorrow morning, maybe… depends.”

“On…?”

“On how I configure the protocol I’m working on. If we can figure it out today, it’ll be ready for trials this evening. Final activation in the morning.”

“And if I strip down and give you a lap dance and then ride you?”

“Then I’ll have my way with you, fuck you until we’re both exhausted and you don’t get the surprise until the day after.” He turned his stool and wrapped his arms around Peter. “I’d be okay with all of that. Just for the record.”

Peter smiled, and pulled his shirt off.

“Tell me you have some ones in your pocket…”

The illusion of the lap dance was more entertaining if Tony tucked bills into his underwear while Peter danced.

“For my own personal strip-tease/lap dance?” Tony reached into his pocket and pulled out a stack of bills – all twenties. He shrugged and smiled, biting his lower lip. “They’ll do, instead. You’re worth it.”

Peter chuckled, and reached for his pants.

Tony had been working on whatever this surprise was for too long, now. The younger man was definitely ready to distract him for a while.

“Get naked, Tony.”

><><><><>< 

It was three days before the surprise was ready. Tony was looking smug, and excited and Peter was fairly curious what it could be to have him acting so oddly. And secretive.

“You’ll find out, tonight,” he told him. “I just want to make a few more adjustments.”

“Do I need to do anything?”

“Just be ready to be _amazed_.”

“It’s _you_,” Peter pointed out. “I’m always amazed.”

“This will be _extra_ amazing.”

Peter nodded his agreement, and kissed him, lovingly.

“I’ll see you tonight, then.”

He had classes and Tony was going to be working with FRIDAY, from what he’d told Peter.

“Definitely.”

“Keep him out of trouble, FRIDAY,” Peter said, as he left their apartment.

He felt the pillow coming at the back of his head and managed to dodge it, grinning as he closed the door behind him.

><><><>< 

“Well?”

“Relax.”

“I don’t see anything, Tony…”

“You _will_. Just give me a minute.” The older man was wearing an interesting contraption on his right wrist. A simple band that looked as if it were made of nylon or rubber, that laced through his fingers and came to gather in the palm of Tony’s hand. Tony fiddled with it, double-checked that he was in the perfect position in front of Peter – who was sitting on the edge of the bed. “Ready to be astounded?”

“I thought I was going to be _amazed_?”

“That, too, smart ass.”

Peter sat up, just a little. It _was_ Tony, after all. If he was this excited, whatever it was definitely had to be epic and was certainly going to be worth seeing.

Tony tapped the device on his hand, once – and then twice – frowned down at it for just a moment, and then was suddenly enveloped in a flash of brilliant light. And something else, as well, because every hair on Peter’s body was suddenly standing on end in reaction, even as he brought a hand up to shield his eyes against the light.

When it faded, only a few moments later, he frowned. And then stared.

“What the fuck…?”

A wailing cry was the only reply, and Peter stepped forward, looking around, confused, before looking down at the floor.

Sitting there, draped in the expensive Armani suit that Tony had been wearing, there was a little boy. And he wasn’t happy, to judge by the tears and the screaming.

_“That isn’t right,”_ FRIDAY said, the AI managing to sound concerned. 

“It isn’t…” Peter stared at the toddler, moving forward a step or two, automatically. “What was _supposed_ to happen? Where’s Tony?”

_“Preliminary data is indicating that the child in front of you is Tony Stark.”_

“What?”

The toddler put his hands on the floor in front of himself, and then levered his little body upright, into a standing position, still whimpering. Peter watched in shock as the housing unit for the bleeding armor nanotech fell off the tiny little chest and landed in the heap of clothing. Then the boy held his arms up, sobbing and demanding to be picked up.

_“That is Tony, Peter… the Fountain of Youth Protocol malfunctioned, clearly, and de-aged him more than anticipated.”_

“The Fountain of Youth Protocol…?” Peter stepped forward and scooped the child into his arms, awkwardly, and the crying stopped, immediately. “Wait… he was trying to make himself _younger_?”

“_Temporarily_, _yes_.”

“Are you _kidding_ me?” Peter looked at the boy he was holding. Brown eyes, watery with tears, but so adorable, jet black hair, round face, and pudgy cheeks that were smeared with tears just then, but demanding to be touched. “This was the surprise?”

_“Not that young, but yes.”_

“What do we do?”

_“The effect of the protocol is temporary by design. Tony didn’t want to be your age more than a couple of days.”_

Peter looked at the baby, who was now whimpering, his little face buried into Peter’s neck and his hands firmly clutching Peter’s shirt.

“So he’ll turn back to normal in 48 hours?”

_“He should.”_

“Run simulations to see if you can find out what went wrong – to make sure nothing goes wrong in the reversal.”

There was a soft chime of agreement, and Peter looked down at his boyfriend, who was insanely cute, but very much underdressed.

“Tony?”

The toddler pulled back, just enough to look up at him, and Peter shook his head.

“Don’t worry, okay, baby? We’ll get you straightened out.”

The toddler whimpered, again, and shoved his face back into Peter’s neck.

“FRIDAY? Cancel any appointments and meetings that Tony has scheduled.”

_“Should I notify anyone?”_

Peter hesitated, and then shook his head.

“No. No one can do anything to help, and we’ll do what we can to preserve what little dignity he has, just now.”

Not to mention, if anyone found out Ironman wasn’t available, things could go bad, quickly, if someone tried to take advantage of it. The Avengers could take care of things for the next couple of days, and Peter would take care of Tony.


	2. 2

The first thing was to get him in something to wear. Peter figured the child was maybe two. _Maybe_? Obviously his current clothing wasn’t going to do him any good, and even Peter’s wouldn’t fit. He looked around, uncertainly, holding the naked little body carefully and hoping he didn’t get peed on, or something worse.

“Come on, honey,” Peter crooned, pressing his lips right up against the tiny ear and being rewarded with a soft giggle. Much better than tears. “Let’s see about getting you something to wear.”

They went into the bathroom and he grabbed a towel for lack of anything else. One-armed, since the other was holding Tony, Peter unfolded a towel and put it on the vanity, then set Tony on it, still holding him, to make sure he didn’t fall – but getting a better look at him. Soft brown eyes looked up at him, mournfully, and Peter smiled, gently.

“You’re so cute…” He kissed the top of the child’s head. “Can you speak?” Peter’s experience with children was limited to having been one, and whatever he’d seen in movies. Which meant, he had _none_. He was going to need help, because he didn’t have anything for Tony-baby to eat, to wear and he didn’t have a car seat, so he couldn’t take him out to get any of that. “Tony? Are you in there?”

><><><><><> 

May was cooking dinner when the call came. She smiled at the caller ID and accepted the call.

_“If you’re hungry, tell that shiftless boyfriend of yours to get out of his workroom and come eat.”_

Peter smiled, amused.

“Actually, I need some help. Are you busy?”

_“Making dinner. What’s up?”_

“I need you to bring me some things,” came the reply. “Things for a little kid. Clothes… food… whatever else little kids need…?”

_“_How_ little?”_

“He walks but doesn’t do much talking.”

_“Why do you have a little kid? Especially one that you don’t even know his age?”_

“It’s a long story, May. But-“ he was interrupted and she heard some muffled noises and then a scream of annoyance, followed by crying. “Please? And some toys, or something…”

_“Where are you?”_

“Home.”

She didn’t ask where Tony was; assuming that he might have been called away for an Avenger issue, or something.

_“I’ll be right there.”_

“Thanks.”

The call ended and May turned off the stove, shaking her head.

“That boy is going to drive me to drinking,” she muttered, looking down to make sure she was presentable, and then reaching for her purse.

><><>><><> 

Peter turned his phone off and handed it to Tony, who had tried to take it from him in the middle of the call and had had a small tantrum when Peter hadn’t allowed him to.

“Here…” he said, hoping it would stop the crying – which it did. Tony-baby grasped it in both hands, looking at it and turning it in his hands – and then promptly stuck the end of it in his mouth.

And screamed, again, when Peter pulled it out.

“Shh… here,” he gave it back to him, but tapped his nose, lightly. Something that was probably more appropriate for a puppy, but Peter didn’t know what else to do. “Don’t _eat_ it, okay?”

“’kay…”

The young man’s eyes widened at the response.

“Tony?”

Those brown eyes looked up at him.

“’kay…”

Peter shook his head, reached for another towel and wrapped this one, toga-style, around the little body, bringing it under the bare bottom – just in case of an accident – and then picked him up, again.

“Let’s go to the living room.”

“’kay…”

He carried his boyfriend-turned-baby out into the living room and sat down on the couch, bringing Tony down onto his lap, facing him, the child still playing with his phone.

“FRIDAY? Anything?”

_“Still analyzing.”_

“Is he healthy?”

_“Scans show him to be well within normal parameters for the age group.”_

“What do I do, now?”

There was a slight hesitation – and Peter decided that the AI was researching its own suggestions.

_“Turn on cartoons?”_

><><><><><><> 

May didn’t need to knock. She was well aware that the apartment was controlled by the AI, and knew it would see her coming and open the lock – as long as the guys weren’t involved in anything that required their privacy not be disturbed. Which she hoped they weren’t. They were sickening sweet to watch, sometimes, anyway, really – although she had no complaints about just how well Tony Stark treated her nephew.

Like he was precious and meant the world to him.

Still, watching the two of them together sometimes made her pancreas spew insulin.

She rapped on the door with the hand that wasn’t filled with bags, and opened it, since it wasn’t locked.

“Peter? Tony?”

“In here, May,” Peter’s voice called from the living room – which was just to the right of the entrance.

She walked in and found her nephew sitting on the sofa. Sure enough, he had a young child wrapped in a towel, sitting on his lap and watching Sponge Bob on the large TV on the wall. Both of them looked over as she entered, and Peter smiled, relieved.

“Thank you so much.”

“Who’s your friend, Peter?” she asked, looking at the child, who was watching her.

“Oh, it’s a _long_ story.”

May frowned.

“Is this _Tony’s_ child?”

“What?”

“There’s no way he isn’t,” she said, bending in close to get a better look. “He looks _just_ like him.”

>><><><><>>< 

“What are you going to do?”

It had taken a lot of talking – _and_ the video footage of the instant Tony had changed into the toddler to convince May that Peter wasn’t – for some unknown and inexplicable reason – harboring Tony Stark’s illegitimate love child in their apartment. Especially since Tony was nowhere to be found.

Peter shrugged, looking down at the toddler, and smiling when he looked back up at him, guilelessly.

“Wait for FRIDAY to figure out how to turn him back – or for the program to reverse itself. She said it was designed to be temporary and has confirmed that he didn’t have anything set that he actually needed to do to make the change happen. Until then, I guess I take care of him.”

“You don’t know diddly about babies, Peter…”

The young man smiled.

“I’m well aware of that, but I can’t let anyone else find out. The bad guys would take advantage – maybe even come and try to hurt him while he’s vulnerable – and the Avengers would never let him live it down. It’s only a day or two. I can keep him safe enough for that long.”

She nodded; it was clear that he’d thought it through – far more than she had, anyway. Of course, he’d had more time to think about it.

“I brought food, clothes and some supplies; diapers, wipes and toys.”

“You think he needs diapers?”

She shrugged.

“You did, when you were that age. Do you know how to put one on?”

“I’ve seen it in TV shows.”

May rolled her eyes and stood up, holding her hands out.

“Give him here…”

><><><><><> 

Peter watched as she neatly and efficiently pulled the towel toga off Tony’s little body, and then used one hand to put one of the towels down on the expensive leather of the sofa before easing the toddler onto his back.

“That’s probably very wrong, you know…?” he said, watching as she held the suddenly wriggly body down with one hand in the middle of his chest – where there was a cluster of scars, identical to the ones that Tony carried from his reactor days.

“What? Seeing Tony Stark naked?” she asked, looking up at him and snapping her fingers, gesturing for him to hand her the diaper.

“Yeah.”

She shrugged, nonchalant.

“You know what he was like in the past, Peter. I’m not even _close_ to the only woman who has.” May smiled down at the little boy, charmed by him. “Although I _might_ be the only one who wants to blow a raspberry on his fat little tummy…” she added, baby-talking, and making Tony-toddler giggle.

Peter rolled his eyes, and shrugged. Amused by the scene.

“Probably not _that_, either.”


	3. 3

They dressed him in a little blue pair of pajamas – complete with booted feet – and then May cuddled him, while Peter cleared up the mess that had been made.

“You’re going to need a few more things that I didn’t bring,” she told Peter as Tony began to gnaw on her neck, sloppily.

“Like?”

“A highchair, for one thing, and some sippy cups. He’s probably old enough to not need a bottle or formula. I brought some jars of baby food, but you might want to get more – just in case you need them. A stroller, maybe? So you guys can walk outside and get some fresh air.”

“Where do I get all that?”

“A baby supply place. They _rent_, too, so you won’t need to worry about what to do with it once Tony is back to his own age.”

“FRIDAY?” Peter said, while May cooed the toddler – who was now more than willing to cuddle with her. “Put in an order to the baby supply company for all of the things that May just listed.”

_“Delivered here?”_

“No. Delivered to _May’s_,” Peter corrected. He smirked at the look she gave him. “We’ll let _her_ neighbors gossip.”

><><><><>>< 

Leaving Tony falling asleep in his aunt’s capable arms, Peter drove to her place and met the supply people less than an hour later, and they helped him load the now discreetly wrapped items into the trunk of his car. By the time he returned and had brought everything up from the parking garage and set it all up in the living room, the toddler was asleep and May had put him on the sofa, surrounded by cushions to keep him from rolling off.

“You want me to stay?” she asked, watching as Peter checked the labels on the baby food containers, reading the instructions on how much to feed them in a single setting.

“No. I’m good.” Probably. “But thanks for the help.”

“He’ll wake up, and he might be grumpy. Feed him, give him a bath, play with him and then a story before bedtime.”

“The _Ironman_ that could?”

She smiled.

“He’s just going to be listening to your voice. It can be the dictionary.”

“Okay.”

“And he probably won’t sleep all night.”

“No?”

“You never did. Your dad used to bitch and moan about the midnight feeding, and all the shenanigans you’d get up to in the middle of the night…” she smiled, fondly remembering those conversations – and it made Peter smile, too. “Just don’t be surprised when you’re finding him wide-awake at 2:30.”

“I won’t. Thanks.”

She gathered her things and left, and Peter wiped his hands on the seat of his jeans, looking at the sleeping child.

“You can do this, Parker…” he told himself, confidently. “It’s only a couple of days.”

><><><>><>> 

“_Seriously_?”

“No!”

“C’mon… it’s _carrots_…” Peter said, using his best _convince the baby to eat and not spit the carrots back out_ voice. “You _like_ carrots.”

“No!”

The young man rubbed his face – streaking it with strained carrots without realizing it – and set that jar down and picked up a different one.

“Applesauce?”

“No!”

The little face was already smeared from earlier attempt; peas, beans, and corn – and now carrots – were all a wash, as far as the toddler was concerned. Or maybe he just liked to yell no, because the first time the big, brown, eyes had filled with tears, but now they were looking happy.

“If you eat the applesauce, I’ll let you have pudding.”

Tony cocked his little head, suspiciously, and Peter reached for a chocolate pudding cup, holding it up, hopefully.

“Chocolate…”

“No!”

“Damn it…”

><><><><>> 

“FRIDAY? Any luck?”

_“He missed a decimal. I corrected it, but the protocol won’t reset until tomorrow night.”_

“We can’t do it, manually?”

_“If we attempt an override, it might make him even younger.”_

Which they couldn’t risk.

“Okay.”

“Remember to put the hand-device on him tomorrow night.”

“Remind me.”

Peter looked at the messy baby; covered – literally – head to toe in various colors of baby food. The toddler looked up at him, and held his hands up, clearly wanting to be picked up. Peter didn’t hesitate. The baby wasn’t the only one covered in carrots, peas and applesauce, and a little more wasn’t going to ruin his clothes any more than they probably already were.

He scooped Tony out of the highchair and held him close, groaning when he felt those messy fingers running along his neck.

“You need a bath.”

“No!”

“So do I…”

><><>>>><<>< 

The supplies May had brought included baby shampoo, so Peter carried that into the bathroom with Tony-toddler, as he was beginning to call him in his mind. He hesitated, looking at the bathtub and the shower, trying to decide which would be easiest, and decided that a shower might be the way to go. It would definitely be quicker.

He stripped the pajamas and diaper off Tony, one-handed, since the other was holding the suddenly wriggly boy down, and then managed to undress himself without too much hassle, leaving all the clothing in a pile in the bathroom.

“This is going to be fun,” he assured the toddler, who shook his head.

“No!”

“Yep. You’ll like it,” Peter said, pressing his lips against a chubby cheek, and tasting carrots, suddenly as he made loud kissy sounds that made the baby in his arms giggle. “I’ll be right there with you. Okay?”

“’kay.”

He freed one hand, but held Tony tightly with the other, and turned on the water.

><><><><> 

“FRIDAY? Call May – audio only.”

A moment later his aunt’s voice came over the apartment’s communications link.

_“How’s it going?”_

“He’s going to starve and I’m pretty sure the diaper is on backwards.”

_“Picky eater?”_ she asked, knowledgeably, and he could hear the amusement in her voice.

“I tried everything, but he spit most of them out on the first try.”

_“Did he make a mess?”_

“Ugh. Yes.”

_“He’ll need a bath.”_

“We just got out of the shower.”

_“Yeah? How did that go?”_

“I cleaned him and didn’t drop him.”

_“Then you’re doing fine. Put him in clean clothes and cuddle with him for a while. Time to relax and get him to sleep.”_

Peter looked at Tony, who was wearing only a diaper and was sprawled on the young man’s bare chest, one fat little leg on either side of him, smiling down at him.

“He doesn’t look too sleepy.”

_“He’s little. Wear him out. I’ll come by in the morning to check on you guys.”_

She ended the call and Peter sighed – which made his chest rise and threw Tony off balance. The toddler leaned forward, and buried his face in Peter’s neck, gnawing on the tender skin, there.

“Come on, baby,” Peter said, arms going around him to hold him close as he sat up. “I know there were some toys you can play with.”

"No!"


	4. 4

May was at the apartment bright an early the next morning. FRIDAY let her in, and she shook her head in amazement as she looked around.

The place was a disaster. Normally neat and tidy, the kitchen had bottles of baby food scattered on every surface, along with towels, paper towels, napkins, and wash cloths. The highchair brought from the baby store was covered in drying food of every color and texture and there was a sippy cup tipped over on its side on the floor under it.

The living room had baby clothes everywhere, diapers strewn about and there was a black towel that was covered in a white substance that was either cocaine or baby powder. She was assuming it was baby powder. Books, blocks, toy trucks and more baby food containers were littering their floor and the coffee table. She walked over to the sofa, and smiled.

Peter was asleep, sprawled on his back on the couch, wearing a pair of sweats and one sock. The toddler was sprawled belly down on her nephew’s chest. He was wearing a towel wrapped around him and held on with a couple of zip-ties strategically located, and had a diaper. There _had_ been a blanket, but that was on the floor, now, sitting on a cushion that Peter must have put next to the sofa in case Tony fell off the couch.

Tony looked up at her when she came into view and the toddler sat up, grinning, happily, and reaching for her.

“Are you being good?” she crooned, plucking him from Peter’s arms, trying not to wake him.

“Yeah…”

May smiled at the response, well aware that she would hear that more than once, now that it was a word he’d caught onto.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Are you hungry?”

“Yeah.”

“For _real_ food? Not baby food?”

“Yeah.”

“Come on, little guy… We’ll let Peter sleep and see about getting you ready for your day.”

“Yeah…”

><><>>>><< 

By the time Peter woke – with a start, realizing that the baby that was supposed to be in his arms wasn’t – May had the toddler dressed and sitting in his freshly cleaned highchair, gnawing on a handful of Cheerios watching happily while she made breakfast.

She smiled when he walked over, his hair messy and his eyes red.

“You look tired.”

“I _am_,” he admitted, looking at Tony, who squealed, happily, at the sight of him and smiled when Peter walked over. “He was up all night.”

“Yeah, little kids are like that, sometimes. He’s not bleeding, or bruised, though, so you must have done alright.”

Tony raised his hands to Peter, clearly wanting to be held, and the young man obliged, gathering him into his arms and holding him against his bare skin.

“He kept pulling his clothes off and running around naked.”

“Sound like Tony Stark,” she said with a smile. “Ever the exhibitionist, right?”

Peter smiled at that, carrying the toddler over to stand by the island.

“Smells good.”

He was starving.

“You have a hickey…” she said, amused, watching as the toddler began gnawing on the same spot on Peter’s neck that he’d gnawed the evening before. “You _know_ that, right?”

“I’m a chew toy,” he said, smiling. “What can I say?”

It was better than having the kid throw a tantrum, that was for sure.

><><><><>>< 

Peter wasn’t the only one who was hungry.

When he put the toddler back into his highchair and May brought over a small serving of scrambled eggs – which were allowed to cool, considerably – and some chopped up pieces of sausage, the boy shoved a handful of eggs into his mouth without complaint.

“You like that?” Peter asked, surprised.

The toddler nodded, watching him, but still chewing, cheerfully.

“Don’t look so surprised,” May told him, thumping him with her spatula. “I’m a good cook.”

“He wouldn’t eat anything I tried, last night. Even pudding.”

“Well, maybe he’s picky. You were, as I recall.”

Peter smiled at that and thanked her when she put a much larger serving of the same breakfast the child was eating in front of him at the table.

“This is great.”

“What are you going to do, today?”

“Hang out here, wait for the protocol to reverse.”

“That isn’t going to happen until tonight?”

“So FRIDAY says.”

“Then go to the park.” She pointed at the stroller. “Pack some things for him – like a diaper bag and some snacks – and spend some time outside. It’s a beautiful day.”

“What if someone sees him?”

“They’re going to say ‘_what a cute baby_’,” she predicted. “Not ‘_what has Tony Stark done to himself, this time_’?”

He looked at Tony, who was busily munching his way through the sausage, making nom nom noming noises as he did, and smiling when the toddler offered him a piece of sausage – which he’d just pulled out of his mouth.

Ugh.

“Yeah… maybe. It might be fun.”

“And, even better; you’ll wear him out and he might sleep all afternoon.”

“Then, yeah.”

_Great plan._

><><>><><> 

“You know something?” Peter said to the toddler who was sitting in his lap, playing with his key chain. “You’re lucky I love you.”

Tony looked up at the sound of his voice and smiled; his brown eyes filled with love and happiness. Which might have had something to do with the binky that was in his mouth, just then – although Peter liked to think that it had something to do with _him_, too.

He bent and kissed the little nose.

“You, little guy, are a magnet for women. Did you know that? Well, yeah, I know that when you’re in your regular form, women throw themselves at you,” he said, watching as the woman who had stopped by the park bench he was sitting on to coo over the adorable toddler that Peter was holding and strike up a conversation about him walked away. “But right now, they’re all over _me_. Presumably because I have a baby, which proves I’m a stable family man…”

Never mind that the ring he was wearing wasn’t from a _woman_. That hadn’t come up – and Peter hadn’t offered the information. He’d simply told her what he’d told the other dozen or so women who had stopped, in singles or in pairs to talk to him, drawn by Peter’s companion – and maybe lingering because Peter himself wasn’t hard on the eyes.

“Lucky for you, I am in a committed relationship.”

Tony reached up and stuck his fingers in Peter’s mouth, and the young man pretended to growl and nibbled on them, which elicited happy giggles – and an “aww” from a woman who was passing by, just then.

“He’s adorable,” she said, stopping and kneeling down beside the bench – and Tony and Peter. “How old is he?”

“Two.”

It was as good a guess as any.

“You’re so good with him…”

Peter smiled.

“He’s easy.”

><><><><>><> 

He spent the rest of the morning and much of the afternoon in the park.

Tony demanded to be let down after a while of sitting cuddling with Peter, and finding a fenced in area where there were other children playing, Peter did just that and turned the toddler loose to run around – under _very_ careful supervision.

Once again he found himself the object of interest by the women – nannies and mothers, he found out, without really asking too many personal questions. He never took his eyes off Tony, though, and when the toddler tripped on his own feet and took a tumble that left him in tears, Peter was right there to scoop him up and tuck him under his chin, cuddling him, comfortingly, against his chest and crooning to him.

Which made the others smile and watch.

“I’d better get him home,” Peter told them all by way of goodbye.

He gathered the stroller – which Tony didn’t want anything to do with, just then – and put the diaper bag in it, instead. Holding Tony with a secure grip as the toddler’s cries turned to soft whimpers and then faded, and pushing the empty stroller, Peter got the two of them home.

Which was a relief, because Tony had fallen asleep in his arms and seemed to have quadrupled in weight.

Peter double-checked the diaper – relieved to find it dry and clean – and put the still sleeping toddler in their bed, surrounding him with pillows to make sure he didn’t roll off the bed.

Then he simply stretched out beside him and watched him sleep.


	5. 5

_“Protocol reversal should happen within the next half hour_,” FRIDAY announced, just as Peter was finishing dinner with his less than enthusiastic companion.

Taking May’s example, Peter hadn’t tried the baby food, again. Instead, he’d made macaroni and cheese and had simply offered it on the tray of the highchair. Tony hadn’t even hesitated; his fat little hands shoveled it into his mouth, eagerly, and Peter watched with pleasure (and a little amazement) as the toddler cleared his tray and looked, expectantly, for more.

“Thanks, FRIDAY,” Peter said, getting a towel and washing Tony’s hands and face, and then running the cloth along his bare chest and chubby belly, too, because it made the baby giggle – and it was a happy sound. “Does he have to be in the same spot when it happens?”

_“No. I would suggest you undress him, however, as the clothing he has on, now, will not fit when he shifts back.”_

Good point.

Peter pulled Tony out of the highchair and cuddled him, well aware that he wasn’t going to have this chance ever again, and toddler-Tony was so huggable. He carried him into the bedroom, and stripped him down, before putting a towel on his lap – just in case – and sitting Tony on it.

“Now, don’t be afraid,” he crooned, putting the hand device back on the boy’s hand, in the same configuration that Peter had seen Tony wearing it before he changed. “I’m going to be right here with you. Okay?”

Tony nodded, echoing Peter’s gesture, and leaned against him, belly full and ready to cuddle.

“I love you Tony…” Peter murmured, pressing a kiss against the baby’s ear.

“Love you…” came the reply.

Which made Peter smile.

“You’re recording, right, FRIDAY?”

_“Yes.”_

“Don’t lose that. Please.”

><><><><><> 

It happened instantly when it happened.

There wasn’t any warning from FRIDAY, only a very faint tingle that Peter felt and then suddenly a blinding light. Where the toddler had been sitting on a small bundle of blankets and pillows in the middle of the bedroom floor, Tony was suddenly sitting there – fully aged at the correct amount of years as near as Peter could tell – and looking around, with a frown on his handsome face.

“Well, _that_ didn’t work…” he looked at Peter, who had stood up from where he’d been sitting on the floor in front of the toddler, trying to keep him calm, and then looked down at himself. “Why am I _naked_? FRIDAY? Did we configure that protocol properly? I think it just stole my clothes, but didn’t do the rest.”

“Tony?” Peter dropped back to the floor, since Toy hadn’t stood up. “Are you okay?”

“Yes, honey, I’m fine. Give me a second. You’re going to love this. _FRIDAY_? Let’s try-“

“Wait.” Peter interrupted him. “You don’t know what happened?”

Tony frowned at just how concerned Peter looked.

“What happened?” he echoed. “_Nothing_ happened, Peter,” he said. “Wardrobe malfunction excluded, of course. But I want to show you-“

“No.” Peter interrupted him. “You tried to make yourself younger, but it didn’t work. I mean, it _did_, but clearly not the way you intended.”

Tony looked even more confused.

“What are you talking about?”

“FRIDAY?” Peter took Tony’s hand, pulling him, carefully, to his feet and leading him, still naked, over to their bed. “Display, please. Show him.”

“Show me, what?”

“Just watch,” Peter said, still holding Tony’s hand.

><><><>>><> 

“That’s _insane_…”

“Unreal was my thought,” Peter said, his hand resting on Tony’s leg, still holding Tony’s hand. “But it happened. You don’t remember any of it?”

“No.” The billionaire was watching as Peter tried to feed the toddler in the highchair something green, which was immediately rejected. “Wow… That’s quite the fail, I have to say.”

“You were a _cute_ baby, though.”

Tony smirked, drawn from his shock by the compliment.

“Of course I was a cute baby. I’m adorable, _now_, after all. It had to come from somewhere.”

Which made Peter roll his eyes – and feel the need to take him down, just a notch or two.

“May wanted to blow raspberries on your stomach.”

The image switched to Tony-toddler sprawled naked on the couch, being held down by May, who was trying to get a diaper on him. Immediately followed by another scene with Peter trying to do the same thing.

“Okay. I’ve seen enough.”

The display went dark.

“You’re perfect the way you are,” Peter told him, sincerely. “I don’t want you to be younger. Not my age, and obviously not a baby… I didn’t fall in love with a younger version of you.”

“I just thought you’d like the diminishing of the age difference.”

“No.” The younger man smiled, leaning into him, his hand running along his naked thigh, moving slowly upward. “I _like_ you being older. Experienced. _Seasoned_. Don’t ever do that, again. Alright?”

Tony made a pleased noise, looking down so he could watch Peter’s hand advance.

“I won’t, honey. I’m sorry for putting you through all of that.”

“You _should_ be. I didn’t sleep, and had to wash strained carrots out of our hair.”

“Ugh.”

“And you owe _May_ big time. Just for the record.”

“I’ll think of something.”

“Think of figuring out a way we can give her a _grandchild_,” Peter told him, standing so he could undress, but watching Tony as he did. “You were an adorable baby, which means that you’d make adorable babies. We should find a surrogate and-“

“Woah. I don’t _want_ a surrogate, Peter. I only want you.”

Peter smiled, pushing Tony back on the bed, and following.

“I can’t make a baby with you.”

“FRIDAY and I could probably figu-“

“No. No more messing with nature, Tony. We’ll do it the regular way…”

“Not tonight, though,” Stark said, already rising to the occasion that Peter was presenting as he straddled his hips. “We’ll give it some time, get you a few weeks removed from having a baby in the house. Then we’ll discuss it.”

The younger man smiled.

“I love you, daddy.”

Tony smirked.

“Good thing I set up the auto-reversal,” he said. “Otherwise that might have ended up being _my_ line.”

There was a pause, and then they both giggled. A happy sound in the dark that was shortly followed by soft moans of pleasure as they reminded each other just how much they enjoyed the company of the other.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The End!  
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